


Uncle Vernon vs The Ministry

by loquaciouslass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciouslass/pseuds/loquaciouslass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uncle Vernon disliked any government that interfered with his life. But nothing could compare to the soul slamming rage that a magic government would produce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncle Vernon vs The Ministry

Uncle Vernon vs The Ministry

                Technically speaking, muggles were not allowed in the Wizarding World. It was a technicality because people like the Grangers would never be able to buy their daughter anything with ten pound notes, and because there was always the occasional honeymoon to introduce a muggle spouse to the weird and wonderful realm of magic. They tended to end interestingly.

                But today, wedged between a grotty wall and a man that could be charitably compared to a pork chop, Dolores Umbridge _wished_ the rule were more…strongly enforced. Her desk had lost all of its ceramic cats in the man’s last shouting fit, now laid mournfully on the floor and staring up at her with eyes that only said, “You’re on your own, Dolly.”

                She swallowed and stared in his beady eyes, putting on her best smile.

                “It’s just health and safety,” she said, lacing her words with enough sugar to get banned from sale, “Harry Potter is a very…precious person, to the Wizarding World. We really must make sure that nothing…nasty gets in the post.”

                “I don’t _care_ if anything nasty gets in the post,” the man growled at her, arms unfolding and fingers twitching, “You-you _wizards_ have been poking through my private post! Every letter I’ve had for the past three weeks has been red penned and marked with _your_ hoity-toity seal! Cats? Really? I tell you, if Surrey County Council ever sent me something marked with bloody cats, the person would be sacked!”

                “That’s very nice, Mr Dursley, but perhaps we could stick to the matter at hand, mm? I don’t think you quite understand how nasty these new curses can get, Mr Dursley. Imagine if your son were to get one of those put on him, you could be left with a pig instead of a son!”

                Something very interesting happened, Umbridge noticed, as soon as the word pig left her mouth. Vernon Dursley, who until that point had simply been another muggle in way over his head, inflated. And he did not inflate in the same way as his sister (which even Umbridge had to admit got a good giggle in the break room), but rather, he inflated the same way a boar would pull air into its lungs and bulk out all its muscles before goring someone to death. It was rather like finding the huffy dog on the sofa was actually a werewolf.

                “How dare you?!” He roared, spittle flying into Umbridge’s face. “A pig? A pig?! That already happened you absolute twat! Do you pay _any_ attention to what happens out there, or is your wand rammed so far up the cavernous lard mountain you call an arse that the ‘ministry of magic’ is actually just a bunch of freaks with the same amount of sense as my sister’s dogs?!”

                Umbridge reached for her wand. He was just a muggle. A quick spell would have him stunned, then removed-

                This was not a good idea, as Mr Dursley was in quite the rage. Upon seeing her wand, he popped a blood vessel and made his eyes as red as his face. He grabbed the object, which Umbridge faintly began to realise was nothing more than a fancy stick to him, and waved it like a conductor of a forty-piece rage orchestra.

                “And another thing! You’re making all my doctors suggest that I go in for art therapy because all my bloody appointment letters are covered in scrawl! Do you ever stop to think that maybe we had witch burnings because, as a species, you are all so phenomenally stupid that you actually walked onto the pyres? Did you? It would be doing us all a favour if this entire place got hit by the same ‘gas leak’ that killed all those people!”

                “It wasn’t a-“

                “ _I know it wasn’t a gas leak.”_  He hissed. “Of course it wasn’t a gas leak! There wasn’t nearly enough fire, for one thing!”

Umbridge swallowed and backed up in her seat. She raised a hand, “Regardless, we will have to keep checking your post. It’s part of a protective program and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

                Mr Dursley was, at least, not shouting anymore. However, he was staring at her in such a way that the main impression he gave shifted from angry boar to a glistening faced dementor, that had stolen whatever eyes and flesh those beasts may have had.

                “Is that so.”

                He took a very deep breath and dropped the wand.

                “Right. Well. I see that being reasonable doesn’t work with _your_ sort. You’ll be hearing from me again.”

                And he left. Umbridge melted in her seat, heart pounding. That was not an experience she ever wanted to repeat.

 

                Harry hadn’t paid much attention to Uncle Vernon shouting. Vernon shouting was just something that _happened_ when he was at government buildings, and he thought the presence of magic was probably more likely to get his blood up. As such, when the walls started rumbling, he’d taken to arguing with Lucius Malfoy, who had happened to be strolling along after a meeting. It was a cut-out argument of pure-blood bigot to teenager with big ideals, and he was using it as a way of passing the time.

                Uncle Vernon opened the door with such force it actually made Lucius’ hair fly back. He was breathing slow and heavy.

                Harry stayed quiet.

                “You,” he said, “get up. Stop talking to the poofter.”

                Lucius sputtered and looked about ready to draw his wand, but there was something in Vernon’s beady, bloodshot eyes that suggested maybe- just maybe- drawing a wand would not give him enough time versus a hundred and forty kilos of pork chops. He simply frowned as Harry jumped up.

                “So are they going to stop scribbling all over the post? I don’t even get that many letters-“

                “They are not.” Said Vernon. He started to stomp on, arms swinging in great arcs and a small, nasty smile coming to his face. The hallway went cold. “I have something very important to do.”

                Every wizard in the building looked up from their work. The air took on a great chill, like a dementor lurking at the edges of someone’s vision. A few of them began to pray.

                “I,” he said, “am going to write them a letter.”

               

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that bit where Harry talks about Vernon complaining and the council appears like five times? Me neither.


End file.
